


All's Fair in Love and War

by xwoodbinex



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Army, Baby Gay, Bullying, Closet Gay, Coming Out, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Gay, Gay Panic, Grief/Mourning, Homophobia, Homosexuality, Love Confessions, Love affairs, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Tough Love, ballum - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21879079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xwoodbinex/pseuds/xwoodbinex
Summary: New fanfic I'm working on.I'm HOPING it wont be too confusing, as it's going to be written in alternating chapters, switching between the past and the present. I'll try to make this as clear as I can, but hopefully a few chapters in, it should have become clear.Basically its the story of Callum's life in the past, running in parallel with the present.And hopefully the rest is history.**NB:- I am aware in EastEnders that Callum is older than Ben, but in this fanfic they are roughly the same age.*****************************************************I also have another fanfic on here 'Falling Like the Stars' which is currently in the works.If you want to follow me on Twitter, my handle is 'xCountMeInx (ThatRedheadGirl).Hope you guys enjoy.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell, Jay Brown/Lola Pearce, Whitney Dean & Callum "Halfway" Highway
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	1. Panic and Hysteria - (Present)

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack to this chapter was:  
> -Bon Iver-Blood Bank  
> -Iron and Wine- Boy with a Coin  
> -Lungfish- Pass and Stow EP

“Look after her for me, yeah?” Lee told Callum, slapping him on the back as they embraced in a tight hug. Callum gave him a firm nod.

“Thanks-thanks for…ya know…for lettin’ me come an’ stay wiv ya these past few weeks. For allowin’ me get ta my head together ‘an that. Means a lot.” Callum said managing to give Lee a small smile.

“It’s no problem mate. I’m just glad I could be of some help. It’s been great ta see ya again after so long.”

Lee slung his knapsack up onto his shoulder and with a heavy-heart, started to make his way off down the road, out of The Square, for how long…he didn’t know. He turned and looked over his shoulder as he was halfway down the road and saw pretty much the entire population of Albert Square there to wave him off on his new adventure.

Linda was crying her eyes out into Micks chest, as he enveloped her in a tight hug, one arm wrapped reassuringly around her shoulders, pulling her closer into the safety of his body, the other arm up in the air, waving off his eldest son.

Lee could see the red-haired girl he had, until this past week; been married to, staring out of their bedroom window above The Vic. He swallowed down the hard lump that had formed in his throat, and thought he saw her faintly raise her arm and give him the smallest of waves goodbye — maybe it had just been wishful thinking.

He hadn’t meant to have hurt her so badly, but he knew now that there was no coming back from this, and that it was now finally over.

Following the repercussions of his failed marriage, he decided to turn back to the only thing he knew that he was good at, and re-enlisted into the army. Linda had been horrified at the news when he had first announced he was re-joining. In fact, she had begged him not to go.

A few weeks prior to this, his old comrade Callum Highway had turned up on his doorstep. The two had been messaging one another on and off for a good few months after Callum had managed to track him down since his tour in Afghanistan.

Callum had had a rough few years, in fact, rough was an understatement. The poor guy had been dragged through hell and back, and it was now that he had decided he wanted to start a new life, away from all the chaos and misery that seemed to have followed him.

Lee had suggested that he could move to Walford. Things weren’t exactly sickly sweet in his life either, and he had decided it might be nice to have an old friend around to reminisce the good old days, and trade war stories etc; something that no-one seemed to get in Walford, and there was no-one he could share inside army jokes with, that ‘the lads’ used to rag one another about constantly.

Callum arriving had been like the breath of fresh air that Lee had needed in his stale life. But now it was time for him to move onto pastures new and for Callum to take up where he had left off.

Both Linda and Mick had warmed to him instantly. That was the main thing about Callum. He was so likeable; it was hard for anyone to dislike him. He was an all-round good egg, who would do anything for anyone and want for nothing.

Eventually, Lee became nothing but a speck in the distance, until he finally rounded the corner and was completely gone from sight.

Linda broke down sobbing and Mick was doing his best to keep her standing.

“Mick why dontchya, go and head upstairs wiv Linda. I can handle things here. I’m sure Whit can come and help me.” Callum suggested looking at a distraught Linda and a very worried looking Mick.

Whitney was upstairs looking after Ollie, she was always great with kids. The Carters knew how much it had hurt her to have Lee end their marriage, and how much she had hoped that she could finally settle down and finally have children of her own with him.

Mick and Linda had decided that Ollie was too young to understand what was going on with Lee and that it would destroy him to see his big brother leave him just like that. Ollie doted on Lee.

“Ah thanks Halfway son. Means a lot that does. I’ll take Linda up an’ try to calm her down. Once she’s restin’ I’ll come back and ‘elp ya out.” He formed a smile.

“Take all the time ya need, there’s no rush.”

The punters had gradually trickled back inside, and business had to resume it’s never ending cycle as if nothing had ever happened.

Callum made his way back inside to join the rest of the crowd and lifted the bar flap, so that he could resume his position as barman.

“Sad seein’ him leave eh? Just as you moved here, and then he decides to re-join again” Kush questioned Callum, as he crossed over to the counter to place another order of two more pints for himself and Martin.

“Yeah-yeah it is. But needs must eh?” Callum replied, concentrating on pulling one of the pints, tongue poking out a little to the side.

“Callum! What are ya like?” He suddenly heard a cheerful voice from behind him say. He turned to look over his shoulder and saw Whitney coming to join him at the bar. “Mick said ya needed some help out front. Don’t think he fully trusts ya yet.” She winked at him.

Callum blushed.

“Especially wiv ya pulling pints like that. Come here, let me show ya how to do it properly.” She budged him over and plucked the pint glass from Callum’s hand that was brimming with froth and dumping it into the drip tray.

She tilted the glass at a 45-degree angle and pulled the pump handle. The amber liquid running smoothly down the inside of the glass. She passed the pint over to Kush and picked up another glass. “You wanna give it a go?” She asked Callum, grinning.

“Nah-yer-yer alright.” Callum mumbled.

“You better watch it Halfwit or you’ll be packin’ your bags an all.” Shirley said sarcastically, coming behind the bar and helping herself to a double G&T and nodding towards Whitney. She turned, leaning with her back to the drinks and looked at Callum. A half-smile gracing her face.

“Leave ‘im alone muva.” Mick scolded her as he came and joined the rest of them in the bar, “he’s alright ain’t ya Halfway son?”

“How’s Linda?” Whitney asked Mick.

“Ah…she’ll live. Jus’ needs a good cry ta get it all out. Can’t fault Lee from doin’ what ‘is heart wishes.” Mick sighed.

“Callum, could ya go and see if the barrel for the mild needs changin’. I’ve been meanin’ ta do it, but ya know. Never got ‘round to it what wiv all this goin’ on.”

“Erm…yeah…sure. ‘Ave yer got the key to the cellar Mick?” Callum asked pulling his beanie down a bit more over his ears.

Shirley turned behind herself and plucked a silver key from a nail behind her head and held out to him on a finger, glass of G&T in her other hand.

Callum reached out to take it from her, when she snatched it away and sarcastically said, “watch the ghosts don’t bite.” Before handing it back to him.

Callum made his way to the door to the cellar and inserted the key, turning it and hearing the lock ‘click’ as it he did. He opened the door and fumbled around for the light switch, flicking it on and watching as the cellar illuminated in front of him. He made his way down the stone steps into the dark, damp cavern.

He could hear the roaring noise of the pub above him and could hear Kat’s cackling, mixed with Ian spouting off some more utter bullshit, like everything else that came from his mouth.

He looked around and saw a number of silver barrels and walked over to them, reading the labels to try and figure out which one was the Mild that Mick had been on about; before deciding that it must have been the slightly smaller barrel.

He had worked out from his short time of staying with Mick and Linda that it wasn’t the most popular ale they served, certainly if the number of G&Ts and Vodkas Stacey and Kat knocked back between them was anything to go by.

Picking up the barrel he walked over to the pumps where all the other barrels sat, filled with a multitude of different concoctions and set it down to unhook the existing empty barrel; turning off the tap to the pump first.

Suudenly, the cellar was plunged into an inky blackness, and Callum was left standing there in the vast chasm with only himself and about half a dozen aluminium barrels for company.

“MICK!” He shouted out nervously; stuck to the spot, not knowing whereabouts the steps were that led back up to the light switch. He’d never been down the cellar of The Vic before and therefore hadn’t got a clue on the layout.

He heard a sudden ‘BANG!’, he ducked, cowering, covering his head.

And that’s when the flashes of light started, the explosions, the blood…oh god, the blood and the screaming! The terrified eyes of the local village children, fleeing their newly bombed and destroyed homes. Their innocent eyes, as wide as saucers, wide enough, that he could only see the whites of them; soulless.

Women weeping, cradling new born children who had only been lucky enough to suck in a few breaths and be alive to experience a few days of the great vastness of the world, never getting to see what it had to offer them.

A woman ran up to him, cradling her new born son; so new, that it looked as though he had only been born a few hours beforehand. She was screaming something at Callum. Although he couldn’t make out what. His battalion had only been taught a few basic words of Dari and Pashtu a few months before they had been deployed out in Afghanistan, in order to be able to communicate the most basic of needs with the local people.

But even to the most uncultured person it was clear that she was utterly distraught. She kept thrusting the small bundle cradled in her arms at him, pressing it closely into his chest. He was shaking his head; dumbstruck. His mouth was moving, but no words were coming out of it.

There was something tugging at his fatigues, he tried to look down, but something kept pulling him away. The woman’s cries were gradually fading, although the vision of her covered in dust and dirt, bloodstained and burka torn to ribbons remained vividly in his head.

The vision eventually started to fade as quickly as it had come, he reached out with a hand to try and grasp at the woman, to bring her back so that he could try to help her, until eventually. She was gone.

There was loud ringing in his ears, and his vision that had been disturbed before, started to become clearer, although the images still wavered at the edges; rippling as though it was a mirage. The was a loud roaring sound, and suddenly he was aware that he was lying on stone-cold concreate.

A woman was standing over him and at first, he thought it was the same burka-clad woman that he had seen holding the baby, until he realised, this woman had red hair. She was mouthing something at him, shaking him.

He shook his head and rocked himself backwards and forwards trying to rid himself of the ringing and roaring in his ears, and realised that the woman was Whitney.

“Wh-where am I? Wh-what happened?” He asked, voice shaky and mouth dry. He pulled himself to sit upright, his muscles protesting and screaming out to him in agony.

“Callum! What the hell jus‘ happened to ya? I was tryin’ to wake ya up. But you were jus’ lyin’ on the floor in a foetal position, gripping onta yer head rockin’ backwards and forwards, screamin’.”

“I-I…”

“Mick asked me ta come down here ta find out what was goin’ on as you seemed ta ‘ave been down here for ages. The light was off and I heard screamin’.” She looked pale white, all colour drained from her face as she was crouched down by his side.

“I-I dunno. I was down ‘ere changin’ the barrel like Mick asked an’… I don’t know anymore. There was a woman, a women wiv a baby, an’ she was screamin’ at me. I dunno what she was sayin’, but she kept thrustin’ it at me, wantin’ me ta do somethin’. But I couldn’t-I-I couldn’t move.”

“Look. Come upstairs an’ ‘ave a lie down. Ya look as white as a sheet.” She moved to slide an arm up under his and slowly pulled him to his feet.

He wobbled a bit and put out a hand against the wall to steady himself and took a few deep breathes. Before slowly shuffling over to the stairs, Whitney following closely behind. He made it to the landing and Whitney told him to go up to the Sitting Room. She’d be up there in a minute to check on him.

Callum dragged himself up the final few steps, which seemed to him as though he were climbing something monumental. They seemed never ending. Once he reached the top he paused, bent over, one hand on his leg, and the other on the banister to brace himself.

What the hell had just happened to him down in the cellar?

He happened to glance at his watch and saw that a whole two hours had passed since he had first gone down there. He frowned, unable to comprehend it all, before moving into the Living Room and flopping down on the sofa, passing out instantly into a deep, peaceful slumber.


	2. Benjamin - (Past)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> -Lungfish - Talking Songs To Walk To  
> -Radio Moscow - Brain Cycles  
> -Chelsea Wolfe - Abyss

“Have a good day first at school son.” Callum’s father Jonno told him.

He was five years old and about to start his first day at Walford Primary. His older brother Stuart had already started and was finishing up his final year at the attached Walford High School.

Callum stood in the vast playground watching the other kids zooming about, laughing and screaming, everything seemed so much bigger and scarier to him. He wished he could still be at home, cuddled up on the sofa with his favourite blanket and Beau; his teddy bear, watching the morning cartoons. He knew he was missing Thundercats and that was his ultimate favourite show ever.

He didn’t understand how that had all been possible last week, and, as of now, he had been taken to some big building where there were so many kids who were bigger and older than him, and where he didn’t know any of them. He clutched onto Beau more tightly and pulled him closer to his body, breathing in his familiar musty smell that calmed him whenever he felt anxious. Now, being one of those anxious times.

Callum turned to look up at his father, and suddenly realised he was gone. Abandoned him once again, just like the many times before when he had chosen ‘the bottle’ over his sons. Callum would liked to have said that he was used to it by now, but it still hurt just as much as the time before.

He felt so exposed and vulnerable in this wide expanse of grey. He stood there in the middle of the playground hugging Beau ever tighter to his chest, before the tears started to brim in his eyes and splash down his cheeks.

“I WANNA GO ON THE SWINGS!!” A voice yelled from behind him, and Callum unexpectantly felt himself being propelled forward as another little boy with glasses came hurtling past him, knocking into his shoulder as he did so. Callum managed to regain his balance and stop himself from faceplanting onto the cold, hard tarmac. That would have gone down well; faceplanting and injuring himself on his very first day of school and being sent home early with concussion. No doubt his father would have yelled at him.

“BEN!” A female voice yelled after the boy with the glasses.

Callum could hear footsteps quickening behind himself and turned to see a taller, blonde-haired lady walking over to him. She crouched down in front of him. “Are you ok? What’s yer name?” She asked Callum softly, “Did he hurt ya? He can be so naughty sometimes.”

Callum didn’t reply straight away, but exaggeratedly nodded his head in response to the lady, before quietly answering, ‘Callum’.

“Well Callum, where’s yer mummy? Is it your first day too?”

“I don’t have a mum.” He replied slowly.

He saw the woman give him a sad smile. “I’m sorry. What about yer dad? Is he here?”

“No. He went home.” Callum shuffled awkwardly on his feet, looking down at them, chewing his bottom lip nervously.

The lady briefly looked up from Callum across to Ben and saw him shove off a kid who was already on the swings, who then proceeded to cry. Ben hopped on instead and started to swing himself. Higher…higher…HIGHER.

“LOOK AT ME MUMMY! LOOK HOW HIGH I CAN GO!” Ben shouted to her.

“BEN! GET DOWN FROM THERE BEFORE YER BREAK YER NECK!” Kathy fretted. She looked back down at Callum. “Why don’t yer come wiv us then. Maybe you and Ben could be ‘First Day at School Buddies’, would ya like that, eh?”

“Yeah.” Callum said quietly, still hugging onto Beau.

Kathy stood back up again and held out a hand at Callum. He reached up and took it in his, her hand enveloping his as he did so, and they made their way together over to where Ben was still cheerfully swinging away in the playground.

“Ben, will ya get down off there an’ apologise to that little boy yer jus’ shoved off the swings. I didn’t bring you up to be like that.” She told Ben crossly.

Callum stared up at the boy on the swing, one thumb rammed in his mouth, sucking on it. Beau clutched in one arm, with a small Transformers rucksack on his back. He saw Ben look down at him, standing there holding Kathy’s hand and narrowed his eyes. Callum shrunk back behind Kathy’s legs, worried.

Ben; without warning, smirked. Then swung the swing so high that it looked as though it was about to wrap itself around the crossbar, and let go of the chains either side.

“Ben!” Kathy warned him. “BEN! Don’t you—.”

She was cut off by him flying through the air; both she and Callum watching, and landing, tumbling onto the ground, wood chips clinging to his green parka and brand-new school jumper. “WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT DOING THAT?” Kathy scolded him, grabbing his arm and yanking him up, brushing all traces of wood chips from his clothes. “Don’t do it again!”

Ben rolled his eyes and grinned, before sticking out his tongue at Callum who he caught staring at him. He saw the boy he had shoved off the swing who was still hanging around, waiting to get a go. He had stopped crying by now, but was wiping his nose with his jumper cuff.

“Now apologise.”

“SOOOORRRYYYY.” Ben told the boy in a sing song mocking voice.

“Nicely please, Ben.” Kathy told him, exasperated. “Right you two, we better get ya inside to meet your new class teacher.”

“Why does he have to come wiv us mum?” Ben whined looking up from his mother’s side, and then across at Callum. He pushed up his glasses that had slid down his nose with a finger.

“Ben, this is Callum and it’s his first day at school too, and unlike you, he doesn’t have a mummy so I’m taking him along with you. So be nice!” She sternly told him.

Kathy helped them up the front steps of the school and through the big wooden doors. An expanse of corridors was laid out before them.

“Why don’t ya have a mum? Didn’t she like ya?” Ben suddenly asked Callum.

“BEN! Will you just behave. For once. Just this one time.” She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She turned to Callum and saw that his bottom lip was trembling and his eyes were starting to well up. “Look what you’ve done now!” She let go of Ben’s hand and he stood there chewing his bottom lip, kicking at a wooden bench that was in the corridor.

He hadn’t meant to make the other boy cry. It was a genuine question. To him it was anyway. Now he knew that he’d really annoyed his mother as well.

Kathy held out his backpack to him that she had had slung over one shoulder and he reached up, taking it from her and setting it down on the floor next to himself whilst his mother crouch down and fussed over Callum, finding a tissue for him to blow his nose.

“There now. We all better?” She smiled at Callum, before reaching down and picking him up, balancing him on one hip as she reached down to Ben with her other hand. Ben picked up his backpack and put it on before taking his mothers hand in his. Not saying a word.

The rest of the morning had gone by without incident. That was until the parents were told they could leave and it was lunchtime.

Callum was sat at a table on his own, lunchbox open in front of him eating a sandwich, when Ben came running past and stole his bag of crisps.

“Hey! Those are mine!” Callum shouted.

“Were.” Ben retorted, greedily ripping into the bag and stuffing them into his mouth.

Callum crossed his arms and sulked, trying not to cry again.

Ben suddenly noticed that Beau had fallen from the chair next to Callum and had slid onto the floor. He picked him up. “Why have yer brought yer teddy bear ta school?” He questioned Callum from standing behind him.

Callum’s head whipped round at the mention of the word ‘teddy bear’ and stood up. The chair he was sat on falling backwards onto the floor with a clatter. Ben was waving Beau about in the air.

“Give me ‘im back.” Callum told him.

Ben moved Beau out of Callum’s reach.

“I SAID GIVE ME ‘IM BACK!” Callum shouted.

Some of the other kids in the lunchroom suddenly turned to see what was going on.

“Ben. Give ‘im it back, that’s mean. I’m telling!” One little girl suddenly spoke up.

Ben grinned and swung Beau around by one arm.

“STOP IT!” Callum told him fiercely through gritted teeth.

“Stop being mean. MRS WARD! MRS WARD! BEN’S BEING MEAN TO CALLUM!” The same little girl yelled out and ran out of the classroom to go and look for their Form Teacher.

Ben’s attention was briefly diverted to the little blonde-haired girl suddenly darting out of the room and Callum took the chance to tackle him to try and wrestle Beau off of him.

Ben landed backwards on the floor with an _‘OOFT’_ , momentarily winded. Callum was on top of him scrabbling to get the bear from underneath his left arm, but Ben rolled onto his front and swiftly snatched him back, lying on top of him so that Callum couldn’t get anywhere near Beau.

“Why have yer got yer bear in school? Is it coz yer a big baby!” Ben shouted out.

Some of the other kids in the class sniggered, and one boy started chanting, ‘CALLUM’S A CRY BABY! CALLUM’S A CRY BABY!”.

Soon virtually the entire class was joining in apart from some of the girls who hung back a bit.

Callum could suddenly feel a great warmth envelop his face and knew that he was blushing profusely. He tried to swallow back the tears that were forming as he knew that they would only make things ten times worse.

He jumped on Ben’s back and started to do the only thing he knew best in a situation like this, that he had learnt from his father over the five short years of his life, and that was to fight.  
  
_‘Oh what’s he whinging about now Stu? Callum, yer need to stand up for yerself. Stop fightin’ like a girl!”_

His dads voice rang in his ears, those same few sentences echoing over and over as he reigned down punch after punch on Ben’s back, arms and back of his head.

“Urgh get off! Get off me! GET OFF ME!” Ben shouted.

Callum only saw red and continued. “GIVE ME ‘IM BACK!” He screamed. He tried to pull Beau out from under Ben and managed to grab a hold of one of the bears legs

“STOP IT!” Ben cried out, kicking out with his legs to try and get Callum off of him.

The was a loud _‘RIP!’_ and some stuffing suddenly spilled out and rolled onto the floor next to Ben. The room went silent, with only Ben still, yelling out. Callum sat there with Beau’s detached leg in his hand, stuffing poking out of it, and then back down at the rest of him lying sprawled next to Ben on the floor. His jaw tightening.

Ben had managed to roll over onto his back and started to defend him himself against Callum. He reached out and grabbed the front of Callum’s jumper and balled the material up in his fists and wrestled with him.

Callum abruptly felt himself being pulled out from underneath Ben. As he was, he looked up and saw Ben being picked up and carried away from him, still swinging his fists and kicking out with his legs as he went.

“WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK YOU’RE DOING!” A female voice roared.

Callum saw it was their form teacher and the little girl who had tried to defend him earlier was stood next to her. She wrung her hands and mouthed ‘sorry’ at Callum.

“I’ve a good mind to phone both of your parents.” She told the two of them.

Callum didn’t care. It was no skin off his nose if they contacted his parents. His mother had left him when he was very young and his father was a drunkard and beat both himself and his older brother Stuart on a daily basis. If it didn’t involve booze or gambling. Jonno wouldn’t be interested. He diverted his attention back to Beau who lay minus a leg, on the floor.

“Right. You. Sit there.” Mrs Ward directed Ben to a table and he sat down.

“And you. Sit there.” She told Callum, placing him at the other end of the room.

Callum looked down at his feet. The little girl who had gone to get the teacher earlier appeared in front of him with Beau and his leg and held them out to him. He raised his gaze and saw her give him a small smile, he managed to give her one back.

By the time 3:30pm rolled around, Callum had had quite enough of his first day and couldn’t wait to escape its clutches. His father had told him earlier that morning that Stuart would collect and walk him home from school. Jonno hadn’t realised that they both had different finishing times, but he knew that Stuart wouldn’t mind bunking off early.

He sat in the classroom waiting for Stuart to come, when he saw Ben’s mum; from earlier that morning, arrive to pick him up. He saw Ben’s face light up as she came into the room, and Callum felt a twinge of jealously in his stomach. He had never had that, and he probably never would have that.

Ben stood up and Kathy held out her hand for him to take a hold of, but he saw Ben say something to her and her look in his direction. Ben slowly walked over to him.

“Cal. I’m sorry about Beau. My mum said she would make him better for you, if you let her take him home.” He stood on the outside of his shoes as he looked at Callum.

“Erm…OK. I guess.” Callum reluctantly handed Beau over to Ben and he saw Kathy nod and smile at him.

Ben took Beau, and quickly ran back over to his mum who was waiting for him in the classroom doorway. He looked over his shoulder at Callum and yelled ‘SEE YA TOMORROW!” and gave him a cheeky grin before leaving. 


	3. The Abyss Looks into Me - (Present)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist  
> -The Greatest Showman: Reimagined  
> -Halsey- Hopeless Fountain Kingdom  
> -Burzum- Filosofem  
> -Oathbreaker- Eros|Anteros

It had been about a week since Callum had had his ‘episode’ down in the cellar of The Vic and he hadn’t talked about it since, making out that he had had an accident down there when Linda had questioned him further.

Whitney had tried on numerous occasions, to get him to open up and talk about it, but being a typical man, he would just clam up and shut off, making his excuses to avoid the confrontation at all costs.

“SHOOT ‘IM! SHOOT ‘IM! MATE, I NEED COVER ON THE LEFT! THE LEFT!” Callum shouted down his headset. He was in the middle of completing a mission on Call of Duty: Black Ops 4, and his team had nearly won.

He was frantically tapping at buttons, leaning forward on the sofa, eyes glued to the TV screen.

“Shit! Shit! There ya go! Shoot! Shoot!” He got to his feet still hammering buttons on the controller, inches from the TV screen, shouting orders at the rest of his team mates.

“Callum?” Whitney walked into the Living Room. She saw he was heavily engrossed in gaming, but thought it was worth a shot.

No reply.

“Callum, can we talk?” She tried asking again, walking further into the room. She walked directly inbetween him and the TV and stood there, arms folded across her chest.

Callum, ducked around her to try and get a better view of the screen, but she moved with him. “Whit! Move!” He told her.

She didn’t move.

“Can you move please. I can’t see what I’m doing.”

“No. Talk to me.” She told him sternly.

“BOOM! HEADSHOT!” Callum shouted out, laughing with his team players. Whitney could hear the muffled voices of the other players talking through Callum’s headset. “In a second yeah?” He told her, quickly glancing from the screen to her. “No, sorry, my friend is here wanting—WATCH OUT! WATCH OUT!... SHIT I’M OUT OF AMMO! BACK ME UP —BACK ME UP! SHOOT! SH-.”

He was cut off by the TV suddenly going blank, and was left staring at a black rectangle, just as they were about to complete the mission. “Oh what!” He exclaimed.

He rushed over to the PlayStation console and frantically started pushing buttons, but nothing was lighting up. He started ferreting behind the back of the TV checking all of the different connections and pulling at cables here, there and everywhere.

“I think this might be the problem.” Whitney said, from standing behind him.

He spun around at the sound of her voice and found she was holding the mains power chord in one hand, her other hand on her hip. Looking at him with a raise eyebrow.

Callum frowned at her. “What? Whit! Why’d ya go an’ do that eh?” He snapped at her, gesturing with the controller still in his hand at the black rectangle.

“Look! I want ya ta talk ta me about what ‘appened the other night?”

“What ‘appened the other night?” He shook his head, confused.

“The other night when ya passed out on me down in the cellar.” A look of concern crossed her face.

She saw Callum’s jaw tighten and he thinned his lips, tongue darting over his lower one to moisten it. Whitney came and sat down on the sofa and patted the space next to her and looked at him expectantly.

Callum let out a deep sigh and his shoulders slouched. He made his way over to where she was sat and set down his controller on the coffee table, before sitting down next to her and shifting his body to face her.

“So. Are ya gonna tell me what ‘appened or am I gonna ‘ave ta go get Shirl ta beat it out of ya?”

She saw Callum manage a small smile.

“I was seein’ things.” He told her.

“Well I gathered that silly. What kinda things an’ how did they start?”

“I-I get flashbacks sometimes.”

“Flashbacks from what?”

“The army. Sometimes certain things can trigger and set ‘em off.”

“ ‘Ave-ave ya been to see a doctor?”

“Nah. S’alright. I-I’ll be alright.” He wrung his hands together that were resting in his lap, before starting to pick absentmindedly at the skin around his left thumb.

“Lee ‘ad that same problem sometimes.” Whitney told him quietly. “He’d wake up a right state. Pale, shiverin’, night sweats an’ that.”

“Did he?”

Whitney nodded at Callum, before slowly reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his thigh nearest to her. She felt him suddenly tense up and quickly wondered if it had been the right thing to do, but something in her told her not to remove it so she left it there.

“Ya, know ya can talk ta me about any of that stuff. Like I said I have been through it all before with Lee. I do know how ya feel.” She gently rubbed his thigh.

“NO YA DON’T! YA DON’T KNOW ANTHIN’!” Callum unexpectantly shouted and shot up off the sofa.

“Halfway! Callum wait!” Whitney shouted following after him. She reached out and grabbed his arm pulling him back to face her. He stopped and looked down at her. Chewing his bottom lip.

“Ok, so maybe I don’t. But I want ta ‘elp ya.” She ran a hand down his arm. “Look. Come back ‘an sit down. Talk to me.”

Callum groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Alright!” He gesticulated. “But th-this don’t mean we’re friends alright?”

Whitney laughed and smiled. “Alright. If that how ya want it ta be.” She turned and walked back into the lounge. Callum following suit.

“Right! Seeing as Mr Moneybags here just won the pools. I reckon it’s ‘is turn to get in the drinks? What do you reckon Lol?” Jay turned to ask Lola as they walked across The Square with Ben in tow.

“Jus’ coz I ‘appened ta get lucky an’ win a coupla quid, don’t mean I gotta spend it on yous lot.” Ben replied, pulling out his phone to check it.

He’d roughed up a couple of punters earlier on in the day on a dodgy money lending business; hence the money, but he wasn’t about to tell that to Jay anytime soon. The way he saw it, the less he flashed the cash, the less likely there would be any questions asked. And he planned to keep it that way.

They got to The Vic and Jay held the door open, intending for Lola to go through first. But Ben. Being well. Ben, pushed ahead and went in first.

“Ben! That was for Lola ta go in first. Ya know. Manners an’ all that. Not that ya even know the meaning of the word.” Jay scowled at him.

“Whoops.” He shrugged and grinned.

“No wonder no-one sticks around long enough with ya ta get their feet under the table, with manners like that.”

“Yeah alright Jay. Leave it out.” Ben snapped back.

“Ok. I’d like ta get inside sometime today, when you two ‘ave quite finished gossiping like a coupla old women. And whilst we’re at it. Make mine a double vodka an’ coke.” Lola told the two of them, barging past and making her way inside to find a place to sit.

The two of them followed behind her and made their way over to the bar. “Look. Let’s rock, paper, scissor it OK?” Ben told Jay.

“What are we? Like 2?” Jay told Ben.

“Fair is fair. Ain’t it Whit?” Ben asked Whitney as she was wiping down the bar.

“Eh? What was that Ben?” She made her way over to where Ben and Jay were stood by the bar.

“Fair is fair, Ain’t it?” Ben repeated himself, getting a puzzled look back from Whitney.

“Look. Just tell ‘im ta stop being a tight arse and ta get the drinks in. He came inta some money.” Jay explained with Ben glaring at him.

Ben sighed dramatically. “Alright! Alright!” He put his hands up in surrender, “I’ll get in this round. But next round is on you.” He poked Jay in the chest.

“That’s more like it.” Jay grinned and turned to try and spot Lola, before making his way over to join her at the booth in the corner.

Ben turned back around to face Whitney after watching Jay walk away and said, ‘Make ‘is a tap water will ya.”

“Ben! Come on?” She scorned him.

“What!? He didn’t exactly say what he wanted ta drink did he? Oh, and a double vodka and a pint, for me and Lola.” He smirked.

“You’re terrible you are.” She shook her head as she made her way over to the pumps to pour Ben’s pint for him.

Ben heard his phone go and took it out of his trouser pocket to look at the screen. It was Tubbs, his former cellmate, come partner-in-crime. He slid his thumb across the lock screen to unlock it and answer. “You alright mate? How can I help ya?”

Eventually he hung up and slid his phone back into his trouser pocket, and lent forward, elbows on the bar top. He picked up a beermat and started to shred it, whilst waiting for Whitney to fulfil his drinks order.

He happened to glance up and caught sight of a tall, lanky man, wearing a navy knitted beanie, who he had never seen before, he was down at the other end of the bar talking to Kush. The man looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it. He wasn’t another of his matches on Grindr was he? Ben squinted trying to work out who he was as he knew he knew him from somewhere, he just couldn’t place his finger on it.

Whitney came back over to him with Lola’s double vodka and coke and Jay’s unrequested tap water, and set them down in front of him. Ben was still busy looking past her, over her shoulder, with a vacant look on his face. She followed his gaze and saw that Ben was looking at Callum. As she did, Callum turned around and gave her a big grin, although it quickly dropped from his face and his eyes widened as wide as saucers. She frowned, wondering what he was looking at.

Looking back to Ben she found he had a pensive look plastered all over his face. He’d brought a finger up to his mouth and was absent-mindedly chewing down on the nail, still looking at Callum. Stepping back a bit, and looking from Ben to Callum and back to Ben again, she eventually asked Ben, “do-do you two know each other then?”

“Ya could say that.” Ben mumbled.

Callum couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He was so shocked he couldn’t move and must have looked exactly like a deer in headlights to Ben. He could feel his pulse quickening and he was getting pins and needles in his hands.

Suddenly he was beginning to feel very lightheaded. Linda came out to the bar and made her way over to the till to collect the takings they had so far, and to go and get some more change, but she paused when she saw Callum there. Deathly pale, eyes as wide as saucers and hands trembling.

“Cal love, are you ok? What’s wrong?” She fussed over him, moving to stand in front of him and rubbing her hands up and down his arms, trying to calm him down as she could tell; from Mick’s panic-attacks, that Callum was in the midst of one too. “Look at me, Callum look at me sweetheart.” She managed to force him to turn his head to look down at her. His eyes still bugging out of his head.

“Breathe OK. Listen to me. Breathe through it. In 1-2-3-4, slowly out 2-3-4.”

“I-I…” Was all Callum manged to get out to her before he ripped away from her grasp and fled out back. He ran to the back door and rushed outside, slamming it behind himself. He braced against it, shaking, before turning and resting back against it and slowly sinking to the floor.

He couldn’t believe that in all these years, his past had come back to haunt him.


	4. I'm a Loner, a Rebel - (Past)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist  
> \- The Get Up Kids-Woodson  
> \- Neutral Milk Hotel-In the Aeroplane Over the Sea  
> \- Tsunami Bomb-The Ultimate Escape  
> \- OM-Advaitic Songs

It was finally December and the nights were drawing in, a definite chill was starting to linger in the air. It was the time of year where everyone reached to the back of their wardrobes to fish out their thick, warm, Winter coats.

Ben and Callum had officially been at Walford Primary for 3 months now, and although Ben; true to his word, had had Kathy mend Beau for Callum, and everything else on the surface seemed fine and dandy. At school, it was a totally different matter. Ben was making Callum’s life hell.

Callum walked over to his personal drawer in their classroom to take out his reading book as it was his turn to go and read to Mrs Ward for their afternoon Reading Session. The rest of the class were sitting quietly reading to themselves, or had paired up and were reading to one another at their desks, or curled up on the beanbags in the corner of the room.

He slid open his drawer and reached inside for his book that he knew was there, as he had placed it in there that very morning.

No book.

He felt around the entire inside of the drawer, when suddenly, his hand landed on something fuzzy. He hesitated, before crouching down to see what it was. Peering inside he saw something black. Black and hairy.

He screamed. Not just a scream that would make you jump. But a scream loud enough that you would be able to hear it from down the other end of the corridor and that was so piercingly high that dogs would come running from all around.

The rest of the kids in the classroom froze in horror. All the colour draining from their faces. One kid dropped the bright orange plastic chair he was dragging and it toppled, landing on a little girl’s foot. She instantaneously started to cry.

There was the sound of shoes slapping lino as someone came racing down the corridor to find out the source of the screaming, closely followed by the sound of another pair and muffled voices.

“In-in here. Where’s Theressa? This is her classroom isn’t it?” An older lady, Mrs Clark, the Year 5 Form Teacher appeared, followed by a gentleman, the school caretaker.

“Yes. Where is she? What on earth is going on?”

The lady walked over to Callum and crouched down in front of him. “Whatever is the matter sweetheart?” She asked him softly as he stood there hyperventilating.

Callum pointed to his classroom tray. “S-Sp-SPIDER!” He shouted and started crying again.

She pulled his tray open to check inside for said spider.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” They all heard someone yell, feet pounding down the corridor. Mrs Ward burst into the room; one hand braced against the doorframe to catch her breathing, one of Ben’s hands in the other. She had dragged him after her down the corridor when she too had heard the screaming and realised it was coming from her classroom.

“There’s a spider in his tray apparently.” The caretaker explained to her. Some of the girls took a step back and moved to cower behind him at the mention of ‘spider’.

Ben smirked from where he stood with Mrs Ward in the doorway and met Callum’s face with his gaze. Callum swallowed slowly and looked away.

“Aha!” Mrs Clark exclaimed and Callum stepped back, bug-eyed, trying to avoid any glimpse of the spider. She started laughing. Callum frowned and Ben sniggered. Mrs Ward shot him a look.

“I think this seems to be the offending ‘spider’.” She pulled out a black, fluffy pair of gloves that had been balled up and arranged so that the fingers would have felt; to someone unsuspecting, as though they were hairy spiders’ legs. She chuckled to herself.

Ben started laughing his head off and Callum snapped his gaze to him. “He ‘fought those gloves were a spider haha! Callum’s scared of a pair of gloves.”

“No, I’m not.” He retorted back, embarrassed.

“Yeah you was. CALLUM’S A SCARDEY CAT! CALLUM’S A SCARDEY CAT!” Ben mocked him. Callum could see even some of the little girls were now sniggering from where they stood, hiding behind the caretaker’s legs.

“Ben! Stop that!” Mrs Ward scolded him and made to walk over to Mrs Clark and Callum, but Callum pushed past Mrs Clark and ran out of the classroom crying, and ran down the corridor to where he knew the Boys toilets were.

“CALLUM’S A SCAREDY CAT! CALLUM’S A SCAREDY CAT!” Ben’s words rang out clearly inside his head as he ran into a cubicle and shut the door. As they were only young, the doors didn’t have locks on them in case they got locked in. So, he shut the door and sunk down with his back to it, curled up as tightly as he could into a little ball, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them to his body as tightly as he could.

Tears started to freely roll down his cheeks and splash onto his navy school jumper. He wiped at them with a stretched cuff; a bad habit he seemed to have picked up in his 3 months of being at school.

Not only was he mocked, beaten and verbally abused at home by his father, it seemed as though this pattern was now continuing on into his school life and he didn’t know what Ben’s problem was with him and how to get him to stop.

As far as he knew he had only ever been nice to Ben. He had lent him pencils on days he had lost or forgotten his, shared his books when Ben couldn’t find his and partnered up with him when no-one else would. So why exactly did he hate him so much?

“Callum?” A small voice asked. Great, so he was now following him into the toilets. Could he ever get a break from him?

“Go away!” Callum sniffed.

“Right class! As today is the 1st day of December we’re going to put on a Nativity Play about the birth of Baby Jesus, so that you can all perform it in front of your Mummy’s and Daddy’s. I’m going to pass a hat around with pieces of paper in it. If you could all take one—”

The hat was being passed around and Ben reached in and plucked out a piece of paper, opening it to see what was written on it. ‘ _Donkey (back end)._ He wasn’t too keen on that position so went to put the piece of paper back in the hat and pick again.

“Ben’s cheating Miss!” The little girl who had salvaged Beau on the first day of school; who they both now knew as ‘Sara’, spoke up.

“Not two. Ben, take that first one back out of the hat, and be fair to the rest of the class.” Mrs Ward scolded him. Ben reached back into the hat and took it back out. He folded his arms and huffed loudly, sulking.

“Right. Now if everyone has taken a piece of paper, could they all open them up and read them out aloud and I’ll put you in your groups. OK?” She smiled at them all.

There were a few other groans that went around the class and two girls started to squabble.

“But I wanted to be Mary. It’s not fairrrrr. Why do I have to be a stupid angel?”

“Miss! Hannah doesn’t even want to be an angel. Can I be an angel? Please? Please? Pleeeeeeeeease?”

“No. Those are your final roles. If you start to change things, it will start to get confusing.”

“Why does Jamie get to be a king? Just because his parents are loaded and he lives in a huge house.” A boy called David sulked.

“NO, I DON’T!”

“Yes, you do!”

“No, I don’t. Stop being meeeannnnnn.”

“Right! That’s enough you two, or you won’t be in it at all.”

Ben nudged Callum in the ribs as he was sat next to him on the floor and grinned. “What did you get?”

“Ow!” Callum hissed at him. “Why’d ya ‘ave prod me so ‘ard Ben?” He scowled at him.

“That wasn’t even that hard!”

“Well it hurt me.”

“What did ya get? What did ya get?” Ben made to snatch the piece of paper Callum was holding out of his hand, Callum moved it away, but Ben eventually got it out of his clutches and read it. _‘Donkey (front end)’_ “Hey! I’m the back end, we’ll be together!” He exclaimed.

Callum swallowed slowly and looked at Ben, before making to open his mouth.

“Callum what did you get?” Mrs Ward asked him, making her way around the room.

He snapped his gaze to her, “ermmm…donkey. The front.” Some of the class sniggered.

“Ben what about you?”

“Donkey, back.” Ben mumbled.

“HA HA! BEN’S AN ASS!” David; the boy who had whined earlier about Jamie getting to be a king, started laughing at Ben and pointed at him.

“DAVID! Don’t use that word!” She scorned him.

“Whyyyyy? He is though. Ben’s going to be an ass!”

Some of the other boys started sniggering and Ben glared at them.

“It’s a naughty word. Please don’t say it or I shall have to have a word with your mum.”

“But Misssss.”

“David. Don’t argue with me please.”

He sat back and sulked.

It was the night of the Nativity Play at Walford Primary, and Callum was shitting himself. He had already had so many sleepless nights over it in the lead up to the big day. He knew he was only part of a donkey in the play, and had no lines, but that wasn’t what had been worrying him. What had been worrying him was Ben.

The thing about Ben was that he was unpredictable, and Callum had no idea how he would react from one day to the next. So far, in the lead up to the nativity he had been fine, besides the odd grumble about how he couldn’t see, how it was hot in the costume and he been generally more, cranky if anything.

Jonno had promised he would be there to watch Callum tonight, but Callum knew better than to get his hopes up. He never did anymore. His life was full of constant disappointments and let downs. Missed birthdays and Christmas’s spent arguing amongst his father and Stuart, usually resulting in a token beating for Callum.

Still, deep down inside, there flickered a very feeble flame that Callum carried with him like a small beacon of hope.

“Misssss Benny’s pee’d himself.” A kid told Mrs Ward tugging at her sleeve. She looked up from tackling some sagging angel wings and sighed. She made her way over to a very sorry looking sheep, standing in a puddle.

Callum stood quietly, fidgeting in the corner of the room, dressed in his grey jogging bottoms, long gray-sleeved top, holding his donkey mask. Ben walked up to him. “Is yer dad comin’ tonight? I’ve got my mum, dad, brother, uncle…”

Callum had zoned out at the sound of Ben talking. It all seemed like a persistent droning, something else he could do without his head being filled with.

“Erm…dunno. Maybe.” Callum shrugged.

“Why don’t ya get on wiv yer dad?” He questioned.

Callum stood there looking at him, not saying a word. He looked down at his feet and wanted the ground to swallow him up, he wanted to get as far away from Ben and this place as he could. He finally opened his mouth and was about to reply, when they were both ushered towards the stage, ready to go on to carry Mary to Bethlehem.

Mrs Ward helped them get their costume together. She helped Callum on with his mask and to hold the sticks with the horse’s hooves on that he was supposed to use for the donkey’s front legs, before getting Ben to hold Callum’s waist and attached the grey, furry fabric over the two of them, to cover their bodies.

She helped them both on stage, up the steps.

“Callum. Remember to pick up your feet so you don’t trip over. We don’t want you to hurt yourself, do we?” Their form teacher smiled down at him and ruffled his hair. Callum looked up at her and smiled.

Ben and Callum stood there for a while listening to their classmates read out their lines when suddenly another teacher was ushering them both on stage.

Callum slowly and carefully picked his feet up as he walked up the four steps and onto the stage, Ben following behind as the backend of the donkey. Their classmates, Hannah and Jerome followed as Mary and Joseph respectfully.

They were about midway through the play to the point when the Three Wise Men (a.k.a Jamie, Tommy and Pascal) arrive to give baby Jesus their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh and Callum and Ben had to move to allow them some room in the manger.

Callum shuffled slightly to the right and Ben had obviously not been prepared for this part, or was dying from heat exhaustion; because it was hot under all the itchy fabric. He trod on one of Callum’s sweatpant legs, which caused Callum to stumble forward, pulling the fabric off of the both of them and causing his sweatpants to fall down.

In turn, Ben crashed into him and fell over, pulling some of the scenery with him, leaving Callum standing there in his underwear in front of the entire audience of parents, teacher and other kids.

He was absolutely mortified. He could hear Ben sniggering from being sprawled on the floor behind him.

“Cal! Pull ‘em up! No-one wants ta see yer undercrackers!” Someone shouted from the audience, and a couple of people laughed. He cringed as he recognised the voice instantly. It was his father. No doubt he would never let him live this moment down and it would have been recorded firmly for prosperity.


	5. I Was Ignored. And Judged. And Cast Down - (Present)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> -Thou – Heathen  
> -Sigur Ros – Glosoli  
> -The Civils Wars – Barton Hollow  
> -Sleeping at Last – Woodwork

“Ben, for Christ sake!” Jay exclaimed as he saw him make his way through the throng of locals over to their table; pint, double vodka and coke, and a tap water in hand. He saw the shit-eating grin on Ben’s face as he set the drinks on the table and knew then, that the tap water was meant for him.

“Well ya never specified what ya wanted to drink, did ya?” Ben smiled, passing Lola her double vodka and coke, which she took from him and sipped.

Jay rolled his eyes at Ben, before getting up and making his way back to the bar to get himself a ‘proper’ drink, leaving Lola and Ben alone together.

“Ben are ya OK? I saw what ‘appened at the bar and then Callum run out.” She saw Ben flinch at the mention of his name. “Do-do ya know one another?” She frowned.

“Ah ya know me? I’m a well-known bloke. King of Albert Square ain’t I? Everyone wantsa piece of me.” He tried to shrug it off

“No Ben. I mean it.” She lent forward to quietly talk to him. “He looked as though he’d seen a ghost.” Lola placed a hand on his arm and looked intently at him.

Ben picked up his pint and took a sip, before replacing it on the beermat in front of him and wiping the froth it had left behind, from his mouth with the back of his hand.

“We have some history yeah. Old school mates an’ that.”

Lola was about to press him for more information, when Jay came back from the bar with a pint so she decided to leave it. For now.

Jay came and sat back down next to Lola and rested an arm along the back of the booth where they were sat, whilst picking up his pint with his free hand and taking a swig. “If ya think I’m payin’ for the next round after that stunt ya just pulled Ben, you can think again.” He scowled over the top of the glass. “What’s goin’ on wiv you an’ Whit’s fella anyway?”

Lola gave Ben ‘a look’.

“Coulda cut that tension wiv a knife. Don’t think I didn’t notice. Poor bloke looked as though he’d seen a ghost.”

“That’s what I said.” Lola chipped in.

“He’s not another of yer flings is he, that ya ditched after feelin’s became involved?”

Ben did his very best to try and keep himself from blushing. He definitely wasn’t one to show emotion, and right now was not the time or the place for that to change.

“He’s just an old mate. An old school mate s’all. I didn’t know he and Whit were together.” He tried to pass off the comment as nonchalantly as he could.

“They’re not. But ya should see the way they look at one another. Kinda reminds me of you and me Jay, when we first met.” Lola looked at Jay and smiled.

“Yeah and look how that turned out.” Jay teased her.

“HEY!” She punched him on the arm and scowled.

Callum had finally managed to calm himself down enough to make his way back inside The Vic. He stood in the hallway and took a deep breath. He never thought he would see Ben again, but he had, and seeing him again had triggered extreme flashbacks from when they had both been in High School together.

It was the Summer of 2008; they were both 17 and on Summer Holidays. Although Ben and Callum’s relationship as friends wasn’t the best, Callum still hung out with him as Ben had turned out to be one of the more popular boys in school, and, whilst they were two, very different people, their backgrounds weren’t quite so different.

Callum, Ben and a couple of other boys from their school had taken some beers; that Ben had nicked from his home, and knew no doubt there would be repercussions for later, and decided to go down to the local reservoir for a swim as it was a hot day and there was nothing else to do during their time off from school.

Whilst the boys had all had rather a lot to drink by now and were well on their ways to being pissed. It had been Ben’s idea to try and swim out to the huge log that had somehow become lodged in the middle of the water.

Callum; not wanting to be a wimp, had agreed to go along with the others as they had all jumped into the icy cold water. Ben was a strong swimmer and had been leading the way, when he decided that it would be hilarious to dive down and swim up underneath Callum and grab one of his legs.

What he hadn’t realised was that the reservoir was fast flowing and full of weeds at the bottom.

Callum had jumped suddenly when he felt something grab his leg and kicked out at it. It was then that he noticed it was Ben who had grabbed his leg from under the water. Ben broke to the surface and started laughing at him.

“HAHAHA!! You should have seen your face Callum; it was like you really thought The Creature from the Black Lagoon was in here.”

“Ben you fucking dick! Why do ya always pick on me hey?” Callum shouted at him, cursing him.

Ben had just stared back intently at him with his baby blue eyes. There was something about his eyes that Callum had always found mesmerising. Ben flicked water at him, before swimming off to join the others.

Whilst the rest of the boys and Ben had carried on swimming, making their ways towards the log, Callum had suddenly found himself sapped of all energy and the harder he swam, the further away from everyone he seemed to get. He had kicked out with his legs, but found that once again something had a hold of his leg, and this time it wasn’t Ben.

He was being sucked under, his strength sapping from him second by second. He screamed out with every bit of oxygen he had left in his lungs. His legs and arms increasingly feeling like lead weights to him. He was mentally telling himself that, although he hated his life, his father, Stuart; sometimes. This wasn’t how he had wanted to go.

The blue sky up above was gradually becoming more and more murky, as he realised, he was gradually sinking down into the murky depths of the reservoir. The inky blackness enveloping him in its death-like embrace, ready to greet him into the next world.

That was until…

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry…Breathe Callum.” A voice told him softly in his ear. “Breathe for me.” The voice got louder, until eventually, Callum felt his lungs inflate and his eyes gradually flicker open. Spots dancing before them. He started coughing and gasping for the life-saving oxygen that his body desperately craved.

Someone was sat next to him on the bank of the reservoir, holding his hand. Once he had recovered enough to move slightly, he turned his head to see who it was. It was Ben. Callum knew right there and then; Ben had just saved his life.

“OI! Earth to Halfwit!” Shirly sternly told him, snapping her fingers in front of Callum’s face. He shook his head. “You gonna stand there all day and day dream? There’s punters out there that need serving!” She gestured over her shoulder towards the busy pub.

“Erm…yeah. Sorry about that Shirl, I’ll be out there in a second.” He told her, straightening his navy beanie that was perched on his head.

Shirley didn’t say anything else, just gave him a nod and walked off upstairs. Gin and Tonic in hand.

“There ya are! Callum. I was tryin’ ta find ya for ages after ya shot off! Are you OK? What happened?” Whitney exclaimed, looking at him, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“It’s nothing Whit. I-I’m OK, yeah.” He managed a small smile and made his way back out to the bar, with renewed enthusiasm. He noticed Ben was still there in the pub, laughing along with Jay and Lola at something, but every now and then he would catch Ben’s gaze drifting over to him. Those intense blue eyes boring into his soul.

It was about 1am, when Linda rang the bell behind the bar, sounding the signal for Last Rounds to be bought as they would soon be shutting up shop for the night. Callum was just walking back from the kitchen with a crate of clean glasses. He set them down on a ledge behind the bar, bending to pick up a cloth to dry them with.

Drying a pint glass; mind elsewhere, he spun around to place it under the bar top where the rest of the glasses were kept, when he jumped, nearly dropping it.

Ben was stood there in front of him, with just the bar top between them to separate one another.

“Small world.” Ben told Callum. Tipping his head in acknowledgement towards Callum. He lifted his whiskey glass to his mouth, tipping it, letting the warm, amber colour liquid flow towards him, his eyes never once breaking eye contact with Callum.

Callum watched as he set the glass down, a small smile playing on his lips. “Ermm…yeah…” Callum coughed nervously, clearing his throat. “Yeah it is.” He stood there wringing the cloth round and round between his hands.

“Didn’t think I’d see you back here again.” Ben moved forward to lean on one elbow, another smile playfully dancing on his lips.

Callum looked down at his feet, before slowly replying, “Yeah well. Came ta see Lee, didn’t I?” He glanced up at Ben from underneath his lashes.

“Sure ya did. Knew ya couldn’t keep away.” Ben laughed and gave him a wink.

“Nah, I’m home on leave from the army. Got wounded in the leg. I got moved to work behind lines in the kitchen, but they sent me home to recover for a bit.”

He was surprised to see Ben looking shocked. “Ya-ya actually did it then?” He questioned Callum.

“Did what?”

“Joined the army ya muppet! You joined and got deployed? Ta where? Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya?”

“Afghanistan. Did 2 tours. It’s where I met Lee and Ch…” He caught himself before he said his name and trailed off, remembering, and bit his lip. Something he’d learnt over time to prevent tears from spilling, to try and ‘man up’ as his father had repeatedly drilled into him.

He saw Ben’s brow furrow. He had obviously noticed that Callum had been about to say something else, but had caught himself in time from saying it. He knew Callum too well, he could tell that he hadn’t changed, even after the years apart. He was still easily embarrassed, shy, eager to please. Always so damn eager to please everyone.

Ben paused, looking down thoughtfully at his now empty glass in his hand, before tapping it gently on the bar top. “Well. It’s been nice seein’ ya again Callum.” He managed a small smile, then turned and walked back over to Jay and Lola, who were having a heated debate over whether ‘Die Hard’ was a Christmas film or not.

“Ben tell ‘im!” Lola said to Ben after a while.

Ben had re-joined the two of them, but had sat there in silence, seemingly deep in thought about something.

“Earth to Ben Mitchell.” Lola told him, waving a hand in front of his face, after realising that he hadn’t heard a single word of what Jay and she had been saying for the past 5 minutes.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts that were racing around it. “Um…sorry. What? Is Die Hard a Christmas film? Erm..sorry, don’t know.” He replied sounding increasingly vague in his reply. He quickly shot his gaze back to the bar and made to stand up to walk back over to it, before he realised that Callum was no longer there.

He sat back down again and saw Jay and Lola were both staring at him confused.

“Well. I think I’ve just about had enough for the night. I can hear my bed calling.” He announced slapping his hands down on his thighs.

“Ben?” Lola questioned.

But he didn’t hear, just picked up his woollen coat, and stood up, making his way over to the double wooden doors of The Vic and stepping outside.

He raised his face to the chill night air and took a deep breath, before running a hand down his face, then shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets, slowly making his way down the street. The tap, tap, tapping of his shoes clicking on the tarmac; as he walked, being the only sound accompanying him home that night.


	6. Old Lovers In Dressing Rooms -(Past)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist:  
> You Me at Six- Room to Breathe  
> James Arthur-Beautiful Lies  
> Sia- Chandelier  
> Keaton Henson- 10am Gare du Nord
> 
> **NOTE: THIS CHAPTER DOES CONTAIN SOME CHILD ABUSE. IF THIS IS A TRIGGER TO YOU, IT'S PROBABLY BETTER TO SKIP THIS CHAPTER**
> 
> Sorry it's taken me so long to update. What with Xmas and New Year etc, I lost track of time. I apologise.

“Don’t make me come up there again and beat it out of ya Callum!” Jonno yelled up the stairs to Callum who was currently cowering in his room, petrified.

It was just another standard week night in the Highway Family household. Stuart and Callum’s father Jonno was drunk, and as per usual, almost like clockwork, he had thought that either Callum or Stuart had stolen money from him that he was going to use to buy yet more booze. Seeing as Stuart was out tonight, it only left Callum as the main culprit; or so Jonno thought. Neither had ever taken the money, they wouldn’t dare, but Jonno never saw it like that as he was always too pissed to even remember his own son’s names half the time.

What would usually happen would be that Jonno would withdraw £50 every night after work; without fail. Go to the nearest Bargain Booze and spend half of it on cheap cider, beer, or whatever he could get his hands on, then at some point in the night he would run out and make a trip back to get more. Finally ending the night, usually down the pub with mates, and stumbling through the door blind drunk in the early hours ready to start work the next morning, nursing a hangover.

Only this time he had already blown the £50 before he had even made it to the pub. Of course Callum couldn’t tell him that, as it would be about as useful as a fart in the wind, and he would get screamed at for ‘answering back’, or worse.

“Useless! That’s what you are. Just like yer mother was, you are!” His father yelled up at him again. There was a smash, and Callum could imagine that being yet another TV with a fist through it, sprawled in pieces across the living room floor.

He hated the way his dad would compare him to his dead mother. He was sure that none of what was said was true, this was only made sadder by the fact that he would never get to find out for himself and she would never get to defend herself.

_CRASH!_

There went the coffee table and the TV stand

_BANG! BANG! THUMP!_

There were three more fist-shaped indentations added to the ever-growing collection that littered the walls throughout the house.

“DON’T TALK ABOUT ‘ER LIKE THAT!” Callum screamed back down to his father, who had now moved into the kitchen and was flinging plates around like a madman.

Callum knew as soon as he opened his mouth that it was the wrong thing to have done, and he quickly clamped a hand firmly to his mouth to prevent more from spilling out.

“WHAT WAS THAT!” His father roared.

Callum bit down on his bottom lip and tried to push himself further into the corner of his bedroom, willing himself to become invisible. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against his father whilst Stuart wasn’t there to defend him.

“I SAID. DON’T TALK ABOUT MUM LIKE THAT!” He sobbed, tears freely flowing down his cheeks and falling, soaking his ill-fitting, slightly-too-small, school trousers right through, until they formed two dark ovals on the knees. “GO AWAY!” He yelled.

He suddenly heard the heavy footsteps of his father on the steps, stumbling every now and then as he, misjudged a step in his drunken stupor.

Callum could feel himself starting to shake and ran to hide in his wardrobe from the foreboding tyrant and his sadistic punishments, that would indefinitely follow. He found boxes in the dark space and managed; with great effort, to push them up against the doors, in some vague attempt to prevent his father from breaking inside his protective fort.

“CALLUM! WHERE ARE YA!”

Callum heard his father’s drunk footsteps thumping across the landing towards his bedroom door, and pulled his jumper up around his ears, burying his head into it, trying to block out the images of what was to come.

He hugged his legs tighter to his body and rocked himself back and forth in a soothing manner, muttering ‘Things will be OK’, over and over to himself, which resulted in little comfort, especially when he heard his father’s footsteps stop right outside his bedroom door.

Suddenly there was a tremendous _BANG!_ And the sound of wood splintering as Callum’s bedroom door was flung open with such force that it ricocheted off the wall behind and split. Callum let out a small whimper and a sharp intake of breath which he held.

He could hear his father shuffling about his bedroom, drunkenly knocking into things. He could hear books cascading onto the floor with a clatter.

“Where are ya boy! I’ll teach ya to steal form yer old man…wait til I get my ‘ands on ya.” Jonno drunkenly muttered to himself.

Callum bit down so hard on his lip that the familiar metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and he swallowed hard, trying to swallow down his nerves.

“Callum, where are ya, ya waste of space? Always whining ya are, just like that whore.”

Callum tried so hard from saying anything, but each time he heard his father speak ill of his mother, it was as though a part of him died inside with it each time. He screwed up his face and clenched his fists.

“Stop! Stop! STOP! STOOOOOOOOOOOP IT! JUST STOP ITTTTT!” He screamed his lungs out.

Instantly the wardrobe doors were flung open as though they were made of nothing more than balsa wood, the boxes he had shoved up against them having made no impact whatsoever.

“There you are you little shit. I knew I’d find yer.” His father lent down and made to grab the scruff of his school collar, but Callum pushed with his feet as hard as he could to scoot into the farthest most corner away from the huge hand the loomed over him.

“Haven’t got yer big brother here this time to back yer up either. Now are ya gonna tell me where my money went or am I gonna have get it outta ya. Ya know what that means dontchya?”

Callum swallowed down the hard lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He could feel it starting to close and he was gasping for air.

“Dad. I told ya I didn’t take it.”

“You’re lying. I can tell it jus from lookin’ at ya.”

“I’m not. Honest. Ya spent it already. L-look, ya can take some from my piggy bank, I-I can get it for ya. Jus’ p-please don’t…”

He father reached into the wardrobe and manage to grab a hold of one of his arms. He yanked him up off the floor and dragged him out into the room. Callum was digging his heels into his carpet.

“No. Dad. Please. Just stop. I can give ya some money.”

Jonno flung Callum onto the floor and he lay there cowering as his father’s domineering silhouette hovered over him. Jonno reached to the belt holding his trousers up, and undid the buckle, slowly pulling it from the belt loops on his jeans.

“Dad. I’m sorry!” He put his hands up to try and defend himself, tears were streaming down his face by now. “Please don’t.”

Jonno doubled the belt in one of his huge hands and lifted his arm up above his head. Callum never broke eye contact from the moment Jonno had raised his arm, to the whistling sound of the leather flying through the air at lightening quick speed, to the _CRACK!_ It made as it came into contact with the skin on his back.

Callum, felt as though he were floating around in a different world. He didn’t realise this was the bodies way of coping when it came into contact with extreme physical and mental trauma. Although little did he know, that this would set him up mentally for what was to come further on down the line in his life.

He was snapped back to his senses, by a warm feeling, and suddenly became aware of what it was. He had pissed himself. It had also seemed that his father had begun to tire by now from beating him, and had lowered his arm; trying to catch his breath from the effort.

“And clean that mess up will ya. Ya ain’t a baby anymore Callum.” Jonno snapped at him, turning on heel and staggering back out of Callum’s bedroom.

It had been a few days now since Callum’s severe beating from his father, and Jonno had called him in sick for a couple of days at school, to allow the redness and swelling to dissipate enough for Callum to be able to palm it off as ‘playing to roughly with his brother’; that was what he had been made to rehearse for if he was ever questioned about the marks.

Ben and Callum were both in Year 4 now, with Stuart having left High School and now in college a couple of towns away from Walford. There had been talk, well, more shouting, between Stuart and their father about Stuart moving out of the family home and moving in with some mates of his. Although terrified, Callum was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.

If Stuart moved out; Callum dreaded what it would be like at home between just himself and his father. He may as well be dead for all he cared.

He was two streets away from Walford Primary and was going to be late. He’d had to wake himself up that morning. He hadn’t known he would have to, and had only realised the time when he’d heard the church clock outside, chime 8 times.

As he dragged himself out, down the stairs, throwing on his coat, he glanced into the Living Room. The television was still blaring out. He crept in and grabbed the remote from where it was lying on the floor next to the sofa and switched it off. His father was lying there on the sofa, passed out and snoring, blind drunk still from the night before, empty bottle of whiskey lying on the floor next to him, arm outstretched.

Callum gripped onto his backpack straps and made to sprint the last two streets to school when he heard someone shout, “CALLUM!” from behind him. He flinched at the sound of someone shouting his name, as it brought back quick flashbacks of what had happened to him a couple of nights before between himself and his father.

Nonetheless, he spun round and saw Ben there sprinting towards him like a madman.

“Your late ta school today.” Callum told him, devoid of any emotion to his voice.

“Yeah, went over ta my dad’s this mornin’ and then it all kicked off didn’t it?” He caught up with Callum and shrugged, hands in his pockets. He fell into step with Callum as the made their way to the school gates together.

“So, what ‘appened to you. Ya ain’t been in fa two days. You been sick or somethin’?” Ben questioned Callum.

Callum kicked at a rock by his foot and avoided any eye contact with Ben. “Yeah, yeah somethin’ like that.

Ben looked at him, and could make out the marks of a fading bruise round his right eye. The initial black/blue had faded, but there were still faint yellow/brown markings left behind. Ben knew the tell-tale signs all too well.

He himself had hardly had the best upbringing, what with the constant stream of different women and wives his father Phil had had, not to mention the number of dodgy phone calls and number of times hushed voices were used in his household.

He’d had his fair share of hidings from his father. Usually after Phil had had a bottle or two. Kathy had voiced her concerns about his drinking on numerous occasions, but they had only been met with deaf ears. It was one of the main reasons as to why Kathy had moved him to live with her and his older brother Ian across The Square to Number 45.

They heard the school bell ring in the distance and both decided to leg it towards the building, arriving with 30 seconds to spare.

Their first class on Wednesday morning was Maths. Callum despised Maths with a passion, he was much more of an English person. He just didn’t get it, he didn’t get Number Bonds, he didn’t get times tables, no matter how many times and in how many different ways someone tried to explain them to him. He just. Didn’t. Get it.

Callum was staring out the school window. He was imagining he was a bird. He was imagining the freedom he would have, the places he could go, the things he would see. There was a blackbird outside on the lawn. It was jumping up and down, frantically thumping the ground to bring worms to the surface.

Eventually, after a while, it must have spotted one poke itself up out of the damp, brown earth, then as quick as lightening the bird jabbed at it and started to play a game of tug-of-war, trying to yank the pink, fleshy string from the earth.

There was a sharp whack on his ankle, and Callum yelped. Ben quietly side-mouthed to him ‘just say 6’.

Callum frowned at him, puzzled, he then realised the rest of the class were staring at him.

“Just say 6.” Ben quietly repeated himself.

“Erm…6.” Callum quietly said.

“Well done Callum!” Their Math teacher Mrs Conway praised him. “Now can you tell us how you arrived at that answer?”

Callum could feel his face heating up profusely, and his ears starting to burn up, which they always did when he could tell someone was talking about him.

He turned to look at Ben who was sat to his left and Ben shrugged his shoulders back at him and bit his lip.

“I-I erm…I…sorry Miss I-I wasn’t listening.”

“Ok. Well maybe Ben could tell us how he arrived at that answer?”

Ben revelled in the attention; Callum could tell he was loving every minute. That was the thing with Ben, he was a bit of a Drama Queen sometimes over things, but it made for good entertainment for the rest of the class, and you just couldn’t help but love him for it.

The rest of the morning passed without incident for Callum and he was enjoying his mid-morning break of milk and biscuits, sitting on a wall in the playground watching the other kids rush about enjoying themselves in the crisp, January air, letting off some steam.

As per usual, Ben was at the centre of attention. He had rallied some kids together from their own year as well as Years 5&6 for a game of football. He had tried to get Callum to join, but he had made up some excuse that he still wasn’t fully recovered after being ill, especially with their next class being Gym; which in all honesty, he was dreading. He hoped the marks his father had given him from his belt-whipping had faded enough now to avoid attention, granted he was wearing a vest under his polo shirt, but still.

Ben had the ball and was rushing about the tarmac with it. Callum had to admit, he was pretty good for a 9-year-old. No doubt, endless games of street football must have been played around Albert Square and have come into play.

One of the Year 6’s tried to tackle him, but he was too nimble on his feet for them and managed to side-step and _THWAK!_ Ben booted the ball towards the makeshift goal; consisting of his own green anorak and a navy school jumper belonging to some other kid, who obviously wasn’t worried about getting an earful from their mother about getting it so grubby.

Ben had scored. He lifted his school jumper up over his head and was running around celebrating. The other kids on his team all piled on top of him, jumping on his back and cheering. Callum laughed, and finished the last of his milk; setting the glass bottle with silver foil top down onto the wall next to himself.

He was suddenly aware of another person who had hopped up onto the wall next to him, and could see them out of his peripheral. He turned his head and found Sara; the girl who had rescued Beau for him, had sat down next to him, sipping at her own bottle of milk. She swung her legs as she did so.

“Hi.” She said to him.

“Hey.” He replied, giving her a small, shy smile.

“Erm…it’s my birthday on the weekend. I wanted to give you this.” She held out a small white envelope to him and smiled at him.

“Um…thank you.” He took it from her and held it in his hands, looking down at it and his name written on the front by her.

“Erm…well. I’ll see you in class!” She hopped back down off the wall and ran off to a group of girls who were stood by the other set of goalposts, by some steps.

Callum watched her and the girls started giggling, they turned their heads in his direction and then turned back, whispering amongst themselves. Callum frowned. Why were girls so confusing? He looked back down at the envelope in his hands and made to turn it over to open, when it was yanked from his hands.

“HEY!” He exclaimed and his gaze shot up to the person who had taken it from his hands.

Ben.

“What’s this?” He questioned, looking at the envelope with Callum’s name written on the front.

“Sara gave it to me. Give it back!” He made to snatch it back off of Ben, but Ben quickly turned his back away from him, preventing him from grabbing it back and blocking him. “BEN!”

“Alright, alright!” He tore the envelope open.

“BEN! GIVE IT TO ME!” Callum shouted at him.

“Ooooh touchy. Has Callum got a girlfriend?” He teased him.

Callum blushed profusely. “No.” He managed to snatch it from Ben’s hands as he smirked back at him. He carefully slid the card inside out. It was a Party Invitation. Callum had never been to a party, come to think of it, he’d never even had a birthday party for himself, he thought.

He looked up from the invite and found Sara was staring at him from across the playground. He smiled a small smile at her and she gave him a small one back, before turning back to her friends again.

The bell suddenly rang signifying, end of playtime. He stuffed the invite in his school trousers pocket and picked up his empty milk bottle and followed Ben and the rest of the kids, back inside.

Callum could feel his anxiety starting to build as his class made their way inside to their name-labelled pegs and picked up their gym bags, before he and Ben made their way to the Boys changing rooms to get ready for Gym Class.

Some of the other boys from their class were already there and messing about, lobbing balled-up pairs of socks at one another and running around yelling. Ben made his way over to a bench and sat down undoing the Velcro on his school shoes. He looked up as Callum stood there hovering about, nervously clutching at his Gym bag, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

“Are you not gonna get changed for PE?” He questioned Callum, frowning as the taller boy stood there, wringing his PE bag between his hands, awkwardly.

“Erm…yeah…I-I...f-forgot my PE shorts s’all.” He told Ben quietly.

Ben laughed. “Well I have a spare pair ya idiot!” He opened up his gym bag and rummaged around inside, to find one of the two pairs of shorts he had, before, throwing them at Callum, who clumsily caught them.

Callum came and sat down next to Ben and placed his PE bag and the shorts in his lap. “Thanks”, he told him quietly as Ben eagerly pulled on his PE socks. Callum slowly started to undo his own shoes, placing them neatly, together under the bench they were sat on. Ben saw him wince slightly as he lent down and frowned at him. Callum caught him looking at him with a concerned expression on his face.

“Pulled a muscle.” Callum mumbled to him, reaching into his own PE bag for his socks.

By now Ben was pretty much ready for class, and was putting on his gym trainers. Callum was still only half dressed and seemed reluctant to take off his shirt. Again, Ben looked at him questioningly.

“What’s wrong Cal? Why dontchya wanna take off your shirt?”

“Erm…” was the only reply he got from Callum, who sat there chewing his bottom lip nervously.

“Do ya need some help?” Ben laughed innocently.

“NO! I ain’t no queer.” Callum suddenly snapped at him.

Some of the other boys in the changing room, turned to see where the raised voice had come from and saw Ben and Callum sat there together on a bench, with Callum red in the face and Ben looking very confused and hurt.

After a while, once the drama had subsided and everyone had resumed what they had been doing before the raised voice had distracted them, Callum quietly whispered to Ben, ‘Ben I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. C-can ya please s-stand in front of me whilst I get changed. I-I don’t want the others seein’ an’ that.”

“Seeing what?” Ben whispered quietly back to him. He could see the serious look on Callum’s face. One that he had never really seen before, so knew that Callum had meant what he had said.

“My back.” Callum whispered to him again.

“Ok…?” Ben questioned.

Callum shifted on the bench so that he could hide himself behind Ben from the rest of the boys who were larking about waiting for the teacher to arrive to take them all down to the playing fields. He got his PE shirt ready to quickly throw on as soon as had taken off his school polo shirt.

Quickly whipping off his school shirt, he heard Ben take a sharp intake of breath and cringed to himself. His back must still be quite back from his beating. He threw on his PE shirt and quickly yanked it down over himself, wincing as the fabric grazed the welts.

“Callum?” Ben questioned him quietly. Callum saw the look of horror on his face.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” He replied.


	7. I Hear The Echoes - (Present)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist  
> \- King 810 - Alpha & Omega  
> -Halsey - Nightmare  
> -Brand New – Degausser  
> -James Arthur – Echoes

Ben walked briskly from Number 45 across The Square to the Car Lot. Hands in his coat pockets. Purpose to his walk. He had an important sale to clinch today that he just couldn’t afford to mess up if he wanted to prove to Phil that he could be responsible as Co-Owner alongside Jay.

There was a slight chill in the air and, as he walked, his breathe came out in white small puffs which hung in the air before dissipating into the atmosphere beyond. When Ben’s daughter Lexi had been a bit younger, she would pretend she was a steam train when it was this cold.

She had been obsessed with trains that year, and had even demanded a Thomas the Tank Engine birthday cake. But, _‘in pink’_ and _‘definitely not in blue.’_ He and Lola definitely had trouble finding a cake that even remotely resembled what Lexi had in mind and in the end, they had to resort to buying a Chocolate Caterpillar cake and making some ‘minor adjustments’ to it. Nonetheless, Lexi had been ecstatic with the outcome and was grinning from ear to ear all day.

As per usual, she would wrap Ben around her little finger and coax him into joining in with her and they would make their way to Walford Primary, breathing out puffs of air just like a steam train, with Ben adding the train whistle noise for added affect.

Walford Primary. Those two words would forever resonate over and over in his head. The same Primary School, where he had first met Callum all those years ago. Before ‘it’ happened, before ‘things’ happened, before that weird fluttery feeling Ben got in his chest whenever Callum was around, started to happen.

He was still deep in thought about his time at school when he bumped, smack into someone coming the other way, causing them to drop the shopping bags they were carrying back from the Minute Mart.

“Watch where yer goin’!” He snapped, knowing full well it was he who had not been looking where he was going and had collided with the person.

He narrowed his eyes at the person who was crouched at his feet, frantically trying to gather the spilled items, quickly reaching out to grab a tin of chopped tomatoes before it rolled under Mick’s Mitsubishi Shogun parked outside The Vic.

The person looked up at Ben, hand poised on the tin.

“C-Callum?” Ben stuttered, then cleared his voice to try and regain his composure. He didn’t want Callum thinking he had found a chink in his armour. “I-I didn’t see ya there. Let me help.” He gestured, pointing down at the items scattered about on the tarmac. He bent down and picked up an onion, before reaching for a pepper that was lying in a puddle, before Callum’s hand got there first.

Ben hesitated for a second; looking at his hand resting on top of the taller man’s larger hand, before quickly yanking it away and gathering up another onion. He stood himself back up and put them back in one of the plastic bags Callum had been holding and held it out to him.

“So er…what’s all this for then? Planning a family meal over at The Carters are ya?” He chuckled, rubbing an eye with one finger. He must have had something in one of his contacts, he couldn’t see what the hell he had been doing this morning, and was apparently ‘running up the electricity bill more than was necessary’ according to Ian’s bland voice that had come floating irritatingly through the bathroom door, between a fist being thumped angrily.

But Ben hated his glasses. He hated how they crowded his face and he was always breaking them from the numerous fights he got caught up in, and replacing them? Well that was unnecessary money he wasn’t willing to spend.

Callum reached out and took the Minute Mart bag from Ben’s outstretched hand. “No. Er-er it’s for me and Whit. I-I’m cooking us dinner tonight” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

Ben frowned. “Don’t tell me you an’—.”

“Y-yeah, me an’ Whit are together.”

“So what? Ya like both now do ya?” Ben laughed at Callum. “I-is that why they call you Halfway?” He grinned.

“I don’t like blokes Ben.” Callum replied with a hint of tiredness to his voice, as though he had heard Ben make this comment numerous times; which he had.

“Could have fooled me that time—”

“That!” He pointed at Ben, “that was a mistake!” Callum replied flustered, lowering his voice, in case anyone in The Square heard. If Big Mo or Kat caught wind of what was being said it would spread like wildfire.

Ben opened his mouth to say something more, but Callum interrupted him. “Don’t. Ben.” He sighed and rammed the can of chopped tomatoes he had in his hand into the bag. He turned heel and made his way into The Vic.

Ben had managed to use his silver-tongue and had finally clinched the important sale he’d wanted to make. He would make his way over to Phil’s later and have a celebratory drink; and an Orange Juice, with his old man.

He was sat going through the paperwork for the sale, but he just couldn’t get Callum out of his head. His mind kept wandering to that night he had held a leaving party for Callum as he had just enlisted in the army and was moving away to barracks in Suffolk, and ‘that kiss’ they had shared between them. Ben had never told him, but deep down inside it was killing him that he would no longer see him around.

Pushing his chair back he rested his feet on the desk, crossing them at the ankle, and picking up a stray elastic band that had been lying on the desktop and twisted it, tightly wrapping it around his fingers absent-mindedly. He needed to get the invoices straightened, it wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was doing, hell, he almost loved Maths; almost.

Ben smiled to himself. He remembered back to the endless number of times Callum had phoned him up in a flap, freaking out because he couldn’t figure out a sum, or work out the 7 times-table. It was the way that he had taken things so seriously, like it truly was the end of the world if he didn’t get it right, that he was going to be in serious shit if he got even one answer wrong.

Callum would turn up on his doorstep, worried look on his face, crossing the threshold, mumbling something incoherent about how he’d tried so many times, but he just couldn’t freaking get it! Ben would try to calm Callum down and explain to him in his own way, but usually resorted to Ben letting Callum copy his Maths homework.

There was a sudden knock on the door to the Car Lot portacabin, which shook Ben from his thoughts and made him jump. “It’s open!” He called out.

The door handle turned down and he looked up from fiddling with the rubber band, watching the door intently, trying to work out who it could be. He wasn’t expecting any other sales today. It slowly opened and the tall, lanky frame of Callum walked in. Ben looked up at the taller man with one eyebrow cocked, surprised.

“Can’t seem ta keep away from me can ya Callum?” He mused.

He saw Callum instantly look away from him and bashfully down at his shoes. “Ben. Don’t.” He mumbled

“SO, what brings you here?” Ben questioned; the elastic band accidently slipping off his fingers and pinging across the desk to hit Callum on the shoulder. He watched it, looking at Callum, before moving his gaze up to Callum’s face, moving to place his hands in his lap; fingertips pressed together.

“Erm..not too sure to be honest.” Callum replied awkwardly, looking down at Ben.

“Well…you’re gonna have to give me something to work with Callum, because I’m snowed under with paperwork and invoices. I could do without the game of charades on top of it.” He removed his feet from the desk and looked about shuffling some papers.

“So… pinging elastic bands at me counts as working does it?” Callum managed a small smile at Ben and moved to sit down on the couch that occupied the office.

“Well it’s either that or invoices and I think I know what your opinion on that would be.” Ben tutted, still sifting papers about.

“Ben. Look. Stop that.” Callum reached across and placed a hand on the papers. Ben looked across at it and Callum saw him swallow slowly.

“Callum.” Ben sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look! I can give ya an hour, but then I have to be on ‘daddy-duty’, and go pick my daughter up from Primary school or Lola will kill me if I—.”

“You have a daughter?” Callum cut him off suddenly with a confused look on his face. “But I-I thought you was… y’know…”

“Gay. Callum. The word is. Gay. Yes, I am and yes, I have a daughter, Lexi, with Lola. You got a problem with that?” He narrowed his eyes at him.

“B-but how? W-when?”

“Well Callum.” Ben mocked. “You how a man has a cock and a woman has a—”

“Yeah alright Ben. Well what’s she called, how old is she?”

“Alright! Alright! Enough with the 20 questions.” Ben chuckled. “She’s called Lexi and she’s seven. My pride and joy that one.” He smiled at Callum.

Callum could see Ben’s eyes light up instantly as soon as he started talking to Callum about his daughter. He could see that she meant the world to him. The only other time he has seen Ben’s eyes twinkle like that was ‘that one time.’ It had only been a fleeting moment, but he saw it and he knew it was there.

“So what? Ya musta be about 17/18 when she was born? Just after—.”

“Ya joined the army. Yeah.” Ben nodded.

“But you was wiv Damian then?”

Ben sighed and lent back into his chair, “Was tryin’ to prove to myself that I wasn’t who I thought I was, wasn’t I? Ya saw how my old man treated me when he first got a whiff that I was ‘bent’.”

Callum didn’t say a word. He knew all too well how that felt.

“Wouldn’t change it for the world though.” A content smile formed on his face. “So. How was the army then? Bet ya loved it. All them communal showers, all that pent-up testosterone.” He shot a cheeky smile at Callum, who ignored the offhand comment Ben had just made.

“I-It was good. A lot of hard work an’ that. Felt good to be out there doing something useful. Felt like I had a purpose. It’s how I met Lee. Same battalion and bunkmates.”

“Oh yeah?” Ben wiggled his eyebrows at Callum, who continued ignore him.

“Yeah. Me, him and Chr-.” He paused momentarily. His voice waivered slightly, catching in his throat. He took a deep breath and continued, but his voice cracked slightly, emotion showing through. “Ermm…we were all great mates is s’all.” He mumbled.

Ben snapped his gaze to Callum and stared at him intently with his bright blue eyes. Callum hated it when he did this; looking at him with his baby blue eyes, but he was with Whitney and this was a fresh, new start for him. Ben was just a constant reminder of the past and ‘what could have beens’ and all the rest of it.

“Why can’t ya bring yerself to say his name.” Ben asked Callum quietly.

“Whose name?”

“Oh, don’t play innocent wiv me Callum. Twice now you’ve brought some blokes name up and only just managed to stop yerself from creating a flood. So come on, spit it out.”

“He was just a mate.”

Ben looked at him again.

“He was just a mate, Ben. A good mate.”

“Such a ‘good mate’ yer can’t even bring yerself to say his name? That’s a funny kinda set up you’ve got there.”

Callum bit his lip to try a prevent himself from saying anything that could incriminate himself even more. He gazed around the room trying to focus on something, anything, other than Ben.

“Well?”

“His name was Chris. Ok! Is that enough for yer Ben? His name was Chris and he-he was a good mate.”

“Well up about all yer ‘good mates’ do ya?”

“Will ya just leave it Ben!”

“Ya can’t keep running from yer feelings Callum.” Ben told him plainly and simply. He could tell Callum was hurting, he always avoided eye contact whenever he was.

“I’m not! He was a good mate. Got shot in the leg and got sent home.” He stood up from the sofa and turned his back to Ben, biting down on the skin around his thumbnail, before spinning around again to face Ben; eyes red rimmed and watery. “There! Are ya happy now!?” Callum sniffed. “I-I…ain’t spoken to ‘im since!”

Ben could tell he was lying; in part.

It was a Monday. Monday 12th August 2019 to be exact. Callum would forever have that date etched into his mind; he just didn’t know what was just around the corner to make it happen.

Things has been going well for him for once in his life. Really well to be exact. He and Whitney had moved out from the flat above The Vic, and he had manged to land himself a job working at Coaker and Mitchell; the funeral parlour on The Square, and that had all been down to a lovely old dear; Mrs Wallace.

He had bumped into Jay who was running around like a headless chicken, because a flower order for a funeral that was due to happen that afternoon hand been mixed up with another, and he needed to get to the florists in time to sort it out before the funeral started, at exactly 3pm.

“Callum, could yer do me a massive favour. I-I need someone ta manage the parlour? There’s been a massive mix up wiv flowers and I need ta get it sorted before the funeral at 3pm. Mrs Wallace is due to come in about 2:15. She just wants to go over arrangements for her husband’s funeral. Notes are laid out in the file on the table in there. Just greet her, make her a cup of tea and go through ‘em with her would ya?”

Callum opened his mouth to say something, but Jay cut him off before he’d even had a chance to project the words.

“Thanks. Mate. You’re an absolute Star you are. I owe ya one yeah!?” He told Callum and legged it across The Square and out of sight.

Callum stood there watching him disappear. He hadn’t got a clue as to what to do. He knew nothing about funerals, other than they entailed a dead body, a coffin and some kind of service. How was he supposed to know how to deal with a freshly grieving widow?

To cut a long story short. Mrs Wallace had been so impressed with Callum and his kind words to her; especially when she had found out from Jay that he was actually covering for him, that Jay decided to offer him a job on there and then on the spot after she had left. He had instantly taken it when he realised the job came with the flat above the parlour.

He and Whitney had been talking about looking for a place of their own for a couple of months as they were starting to feel a little crowded living with The Carters. There was always a mad scramble for the bathroom first thing, and they could never keep anything to themselves, before Shirley decided to broadcast it to the entire family.

He had just settled down to catch the highlights of the Man U game that he had recorded from the weekend, after missing it due to work, when Jay shouted up the stairs to him that he had a visitor. He sighed at still not being able to catch the game, before removing his feet from the coffee table; something he knew he could get away with whilst Whitney wasn’t there.

Shoving some crisps into his mouth he made his way down the stairs, appearing in the front room of the parlour. There was a tallish lady, with a dark complexion and black, curly hair stood there, who turned to look at him as she heard footsteps enter the room.

As soon as Callum caught first glimpse of her, all colour drained from his face. He froze, and suddenly felt extremely nauseous. The similarity was uncanny, but she couldn’t be. Could she?

She smiled a small, warm smile at the tall man standing before her in the doorway. “Callum?” She questioned.

Callum could see Jay frowning over her shoulder at him.

_Keep calm. Don’t panic. Just ask her what she wants. It’ll be alright_

The voice inside his head was telling him, although the other half was telling him to run, and it felt as though his heart was about to beat out of his chest with every pulse. He cleared his throat and took a big gulp of air.

“Erm…yeah. That’s me.” He replied to her, hesitantly.

She crossed over to stand before him. Callum looked down at her and it was just like looking into a mirror and seeing Chris standing there in front of him. He could feel his bottom lip starting to tremble and he balled his hands up into fists to try and fight back the tears that he could feel were brewing.

“My names Vicky—”

“Kennedy?” Callum cut her off.

She frowned; the sides of her mouth suddenly turning up into a small smile. “Yes. Chris’s sister. How did you—”

“Y-ya look jus’ l-like ‘im.” Callum stuttered.

“I’ve been told that before on numerous occasions.” Her eyes smiled at him and the smile on her face turned into an even bigger one at the sound of the words that came out of Callum’s voice.

“W-why? W-where? I-is…”

She moved to pick up his large hands that were hanging there, limply at his sides, uselessly and encapsulated them in her own.

“Is it OK if we go somewhere else to talk?”

“Erm..y-yeah. Sure.” Callum pulled away and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Please.” He gestured to the stairs that led up to his and Whitney’s flat.

She walked past him and he could hear her footsteps lightly making their way upstairs. Callum quickly glanced back at Jay, who was still stood there with a face showing a mixture of confusion and concern written all over it.

Callum followed Vicky closely behind and led her through to their Sitting Room. “Err…excuse all the mess. I had a day off work, I wasn’t expecting visitors. Here. Let me move that for yer.” He reached down to move some of Whitney’s fashion magazines from an armchair and placed them on the coffee table. “Would ya like a cup of tea? I-I think we have milk, unless it’s gone off. That was something I was supposed ta do today. Whit’s gonna kill me. I think we have coffee in here somewhere if you’d—”

He was cut off by Vicky walking over to him and taking one of his hands in hers and leading him back over to the couch. She let him sit down and came and sat down next to him, turning so that her knees were slightly touching his. She set her handbag down on the floor next to her and rummaged around inside to find something. When she eventually did, she pulled out a bundle of letters, tied with a red ribbon.

Callum instantly recognised the handwriting as belonging to Chris. Vicky gently held the letters out to him and placed them in his hands, curving his hands around the bundle to cradle it, and pushing his arms back into his chest, before resting a hand on his knee.

Callum didn’t break eye contact with her face once. He still couldn’t quite work out why she was here and what she wanted, and where was Chris. Although deep, deep down inside his chest was forming a tightening, clenching pain like none he had ever felt before in his life.

“Chris wrote these letters to me whilst he was out in Afghanistan. H-he never put a name in the letters…only referred to the person as ‘H’…I-I did some digging and-and, I found that you were the only other person in his battalion who worked behind the lines in the kitchens. Y-you got shot in the leg, right?” She looked at Callum with watery eyes.

He didn’t say a word, just nodded.

“And your surname is Highway?”

Callum nodded again.

“Callum.” She moved to place both of her hands on his legs. “Ch-Chris…h-he...he passed away a couple of weeks ago.” She softly told him.

Callum couldn’t meet her eyes at these words. He just sat there, staring down at her hands on his legs. Eventually Vicky saw tears starting to fall and make dark blue patches on his jeans.

“I’m so sorry Callum. Read the letters in your own time. You’ll see why I-I had to find you to give them to you.” She could feel Callum starting to tremble and reached out, pulling him into a tight hug. It was then that she could feel him violently shaking, crying silently into her chest. “I’m so sorry.” She whispered to him again, softly rubbing his back to try and sooth him, but knowing that her actions would have little affect on the devastated man sat before her.

“W-what happened?” Callum finally managed to get out between sobs and hiccups.

Vicky took a deep breath. “He-he. He killed himself.”

Callum felt as though he had taken a bullet to the heart when he heard the words ‘killed himself’ fall from her mouth.

“L-look. If you ever want anyone to talk to about this. Call me night or day OK?” She pulled away and held his hands in hers and looked at the sobbing mess that was Callum. She rummaged into her handbag once more and pulled out a pen and a piece of paper and scribbled down her mobile number for him and left it on the coffee table.

Callum wiped his eyes on the sleeve of the grey hoodie he was wearing, but they still kept flowing and he could now only make Vicky out to be a watery blob from behind them. He sniffed again.

“One more thing. My family would really like for you to come to Chris’s funeral next Thursday.” She handed him a small invite headed with The Forces crest. “O-of course. I-If you think that it would be too much for you. We respect that as well. But I know my mum would love to meet someone who was so special to her son. I-I’m so sorry about this Callum, I wish it could have been better news. I-I need to head off now, but please call me at any time.” She rose from the sofa and looked down at the sobbing mess of a man once more, before slowly reaching down and embracing him in her arms once again.

“Please. Look after yourself ok?” She whispered to him. Before slowly turning to leave. She could hear the painful sobs still coming from Callum as she made her way back down the stairs into the funeral parlour and saw herself out.

Eventually, with trembling hands, Callum brought himself to pull the red ribbon undone and take the top letter from the pile and reluctantly slide it from its envelope. Holding it before himself in amongst clouded eyes and blurred lines, he could make out some of what the letter entailed.

_‘Hey Sis,_

_Me again. I’ve just managed to grab 5 minutes to myself to write to you._

_H managed to burn dinner again tonight. He tries so hard bless him, but he’s downright hopeless. Of course, me and the lads haven’t the heart to tell him, and to be truthful, we are grateful for whatever we can get to eat here._

_I went and sat outside last night at the base; managed to get away from the front for a bit of a breather for once. (I think we’re planning on moving Eastwards a bit in the next few days, but I shall let you know when I know for sure.)._

_H came and sat next to me and we just sat there together looking at all the constellations in the sky. I told him the names for some and he teased me for being a bit of a nerd about that stuff; but you know how dad used to like to take us out to that field to look at them? That one a couple of towns across from our house?_

_Then we both saw a shooting star at the same time. I told him we needed to make a wish as that was what you were supposed to do when you saw one. He just looked at me with this completely puzzled look on his face, that he has when he doesn’t understand something, it’s adorable. You’d love him Vic._

_I told him we needed to make wishes, and then the idiot promptly goes and asks me what I wished for! I told him I couldn’t tell him as that was the whole point! Honestly, he’s so stupid sometimes, but it makes him all the more loveable._

_Anyway…I don’t know what he wished for, but I think by now you can probably guess what I wished for._

_I love him Vic._

_He’s like no man I’ve ever met before. I’ve never felt this close to another man before as I do to him. Why of all places do I have to fall in love with a man whose out fighting for Queen and Country, who could be ripped from me at any second by a stray bullet?_

_It’s because of that, that I haven’t told him how I feel. Besides, I don’t know if he’s out yet. I know how that feels and I wouldn’t wish that upon him, especially so publicly and that, so I will spare him that much at least. He does get a lot of letters from a guy called Ben though._

_Maybe once all of this shit is over with; and we get back to the UK, I can tell him how I feel? Honestly, I can see things in the future for us both. Together. He’s my own shooting star._

_I’ll write to you soon, I hope. Tell mum I love her very much and will get a letter off to her shortly as well. It’s her birthday soon isn’t it? I’ll try and put something together to send to her._

_I love you sis. Look after yourself._

_Chris_

_XxxxX_

As soon as Callum saw the words ‘I love him’ written in Chris’s own hand on the page before him, he had a complete meltdown. Somehow, he made his way to his and Whitney’s bedroom, scrabbling to find his Union Jack box, the one he kept on top of the wardrobe, that held all of his military stuff, and shoved the bundle of letters into it, kicking it under their bed.

He made to grab his coat from the back of the door, but decided against it, and rushed to the door of the flat, slamming it behind himself, not bothering to lock it. None of that would matter anyway.

He practically flew down the stairs and vaguely heard Jay call out something to him as he rushed past him. He needed to get out of that flat, and its oppressing walls.

Buying a bottle of whiskey from the Minute Mart; thankfully with no questions asked from Honey, and swigging it, he stumbled his way up the railroad embankment, making his way to the vast railway bridge that loomed overhead.

He made his way to the top and swung his legs over the barrier to the tracks that ran across the top of the bridge, and stood there looking out at the vast expanse of Walford that lay before his eyes.

The words from a song he had heard sometime earlier that day echoing in his head:

_‘ I’ll take you to the stars_

_‘Cause now the sky is not enough…'_


End file.
